Jewish World Review Sept. 29, 2004 / 14 Tishrei, 5765
Blood runs cold at the sound of Kitty (Kelley's) claws
I finish reading the morning newspaper and tell my husband we have a lot to be grateful for.
"Like what?" he asks.
"Like the fact that Kitty Kelley would never be interested in doing an unauthorized biography on us."
"That is something to be thankful for," he says. "Maybe you ought to whip up a couple of pumpkin pies and shove a turkey in the oven to celebrate right now."
"Be careful what you say," I snap. "Do you know what Kitty Kelley would do if she heard you talk like that? By page five, you'd be a sexist pig who chained me to the stove and lived only for food."
"Me?" he says. "You ought to watch yourself. Her poison pen could have a field day with someone like you."
"How so?" I ask.
"See that mess on the counter top from where you filled the sugar canister?" he says. "That may be C&H Finely Granulated to you, but to Kitty Kelley, that easily could be your stash of cocaine.
"And what about that strange man seen leaving the house while I was at work?" he asks.
"It was the FedEx guy," I growl.
"You know it was a book delivery, and I know it was a book delivery, but to Kitty Kelley, it would be a scandal waiting to scream."
"Can you imagine what a woman like that would do with the kids?" I ask. "I can just hear her: 'So, kids, when did your mother stop beating you?' All one of them would have to say is, 'I don't remember anything like that,' and bam! she would take that as confirmation that I beat them into amnesia."
"Yep," the husband says. "I could wind up being the sexist pig who loved pie and you'd be the cocaine-snorting cook who throttled the kids senseless."
"They say she interviews a thousand people for each tell-all," I muse. "You think she could get anything juicy from our neighbors?"
"I think she could get hours and hours of tape saying we're boring," he says. "They'd let her know that your idea of excitement is watching paint dry and that my idea of a high time is changing the pattern when I mow the lawn. That should be enough to discourage the most ambitious of muckrakers."
"Don't count on it," I say. "People thought the Queen Mother was boring, but when Kelley finished writing "The Royals," the matriarch with matching shoes and handbag had a sex drive so wild the United Kingdom banned the book.
"There's a reason they call her the Woman Who Leaves No Stone Unthrown. She got pages out of Liz Taylor choking on a chicken bone and you did bite the inside of your cheek last week. That may be uneventful to us, but a pro like Kelley could get an entire chapter and a Today Show interview out of it."
"I'm following Larry King's lead," the husband says. "I'll have nothing to do with Kitty and her claws."
"And to think she pulled down a $4 million advance. That's some kind of writer," I say.
"She sure is," the husband says, leaving the room.
"Hey, where are you going?"
"To dump the trash. All this talk about Kitty Kelley reminded me it's garbage day."
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© 2004, Lori Borgman
JWR contributor Lori Borgman is the author of , most recently, "Pass the Faith, Please" (Click HERE to purchase. Sales help fund JWR.) and I Was a Better Mother Before I Had Kids To comment, please click here. To visit her website click here.